The Joke's On Us
by agent000
Summary: Who is better at telling jokes, Ed, Winry, or Al? You decide. Jokes will not exceed a T rating, but they'll still be pretty darn funny!
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, everybody, this is Ed. Al, Winry, and I were wondering if you could help us settle a little argument we had a few minutes ago."

--Flashback—

Some random stranger: So, which of you is the better joke teller?

All three: I am!

Ed: No you're not, I am!

Winry: Stop being so cocky, Ed, you know I'm better than you.

Al: I'm better that either of you. (Ed and Winry turn to look at him with puzzled expressions on their faces.) Hey, I've never told jokes in front of you because you've never asked. The people I've told jokes to think I'm hilarious.

Stranger: There's only one way to settle this.

All three: What?

Stranger: Let the readers decide.

All three: Oh right, duh, good idea, etc.

--End Flashback—

"So, we need your help to resolve this argument, or it'll never get resolved. All you need to do is give each of our jokes a rating from one to five stars in your reviews, one being the worst, five being the best. Of course, I already know I'm the best joke teller, but I need proof to show to these misguided souls."

"Oh, yeah right, like you're really a great joke teller," said Winry, "Half of your jokes aren't even funny."

"By whose standards, yours?"

"Winry, Brother, calm down! Let's let the readers decide. It's time to put up the disclaimer."

"Why do we need a disclaimer," said Ed, "We own ourselves."

"Yes, but Melissa doesn't."

"But we're the ones writing this," said Winry, "Not Melissa."

"Yes, she was dumb enough to leave her username and password lying around, so I just figured, 'what the hey, she's already got a following, so we might as well use her account,'" said Ed.

"For that reason, we need to make sure not to get her in trouble," said Al.

"Your point is taken, Al," said Winry, proceeding to type at the keyboard, which she couldn't figure out why she was writing about herself in the third person, but still…

"Melissa doesn't own us, and she's not even the one writing this story. We're writing it, so if you want to flame, flame us, not her. If we reply to your reviews, we'll also be the ones replying, not Melissa. Heck, Ed figured out how to break into her e-mail account, and take care of all the mail from this story without her knowing about it, so she won't reply to any of the reviews from this story."

"So, who goes first?" asked Al.

"I'll go first," said Ed, who proceeded to begin his joke.

"Maybe we should have issued a joke disclaimer," said Winry, but it was too late. Ed was already telling the joke.

"There was this guy who was driving out in the country, when suddenly his car broke down. He happened to be near a monastery, so he went and knocked on the door of the monastery and asked for help. The monks kindly took him in, fed him, repaired his car, and asked him to stay for the night.

"As the man was resting in his bed that night, he heard a strange sound, like none he'd ever heard before. He tried to place it, but he couldn't, so he just shrugged it off and went to bed.

"Upon awakening the next morning, the monks asked him if he had had a good night's sleep. He said he had, but was wondering what that strange sound was. The sighed and said, 'We're sorry, we can't tell you because you're not a monk.'

"He said he understood, so he thanked them and then drove away in his car.

"Five years later, he was driving his car in the same area, when he broke down in front of the same monastery. As he had done previously, he went and knocked on the door for help. The monks kindly brought him in, fed him, repaired his car, and asked him to stay for the night.

"As the man was bedding down for the night, he again heard the strange sound that he had heard five years before. The next morning, he approached one of the monks and said, 'Five years ago, I was here and heard this strange sound during the night, and just last night, I heard it again. Could you please tell me what it was?'

"The monk just sighed, and said, 'I'm sorry, I can't tell you because you're not a monk.'

"At this, the man said, 'Okay, if to know what this sound is, I have to become a monk, then tell me how to become a monk.'

"'Go around the world,' said the monk, 'And find out how many blades of grass there are and how many grains of sand there are. When you have these figures, report back to us. Then you'll become a monk.'

"The man traveled all around the world, counting all the blades of grass and grains of sand. Finally, after forty years, he came back to the monastery, and told them the figures that he had come up with.

"'That is correct,' said the monk, 'You are now a monk. I will now lead you to the source of the sound.'

"The monk led the man to a wooden door. The man tried it, only to find it locked. He demanded the key to open it, which he was promptly given. He unlocked the door, only to find another door behind it, which was made of glass. He opened that door, only to find yet another door behind that one, but it was made of agate. He opened that door, only to find a door made of silver.

"He continued opening different doors made of elemerald, amethyst, gold, sapphire, topaz, and diamond. Finally, he came to the last door, which was made of ruby. He opened that door, and stepped into the room where the sound was coming from. He was absolutely shocked and amazed when he realized what the source of the sound was.

"But I can't tell you what it is, because you're not a monk."

"Edward...you, you...!" Ed felt Winry's wrench smack him across his head. "How DARE you!"

Ed laughed and took off running, while shouting, "Please give me a high rating in your reviews, and be careful when you come back for the next chapter. Winry's joke is next!"

With that, Winry picked up the pace and chased even harder after Ed. She would catch him. Sooner or later, she would catch him.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, everybody! Welcome back! This is Winry this time, since this is my time to share a joke!

"Oh, and by the way, I think that Ed has been sending a lot of you letters telling you to give me a really low rating. Disregard that. He was just mad because I whacked him a bit hard last time because of his annoying joke. Give me the rating you think I deserve, not simply what Ed thinks I should get!"

"What I think you should get IS what you deserve!" said Ed. He obviously hadn't found a way to get out of being present for Winry's joke session, so he figured that he might as well just pout and gripe the whole time.

"I am NOT pouting and griping, Winry! Get away from that keyboard; I'm going to do the typing!"

"You don't even know how to type, Ed," said Winry, "You have to search for each individual letter. It would take you an eternity to type this up."

"Better that than have you giving people the wrong impression of me!"

Winry looked over at Al, and asked, "Al, do you think I'm giving people the wrong impression of Ed?"

Al looked first at Winry, then at Ed, then back at Winry. He shook his head and said, "No, I think you're quite accurate in your depiction."

"YOU WOULD BETRAY YOUR OWN BROTHER?" Al coughed and got up and left the room. Ed sighed and slumped into a chair. Winry kept typing at the keyboard.

"Now it's time for my joke," said Winry, "I hope you all like it."

"Wait, let me get some aspirin first," said Edward.

"Oh, just sit down and take it like a man!" commanded Winry. He glared and slumped back down into his chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Let's get this over with."

"Okay," said Winry in an all-too-bubbly tone of voice, "Here's my joke. The captain of a ship was standing out on deck one day when he noticed a pirate ship coming towards them. He quickly called to one of his men, 'Bring me my red shirt!' The man quickly did so, and the captain put it on. They all fought the pirate, and had a glorious victory.

"Later that night, while they were all celebrating their victory, the man asked the captain why he had asked to have his red shirt brought to him. The captain replied, 'Well, had I been injured in battle, and you all saw my blood, you would have lost the courage to fight. The redness of the shirt ensured that you would not see my blood if I had gotten wounded.' The men all nodded their heads in understanding. This was a wise captain indeed.

"The next day, the captain was again standing out on deck, when he noticed not one, but TEN pirate ships coming at him! He turned to the man next to him and said, 'Quick, bring me my brown pants!'"

Edward slapped his hand over his face and muttered, "Oh man, that's just sick." He actually chuckled a little bit at that one though. "I never expected a joke like that from you, Winry."

"You ought to know that I like weird jokes," said Winry.

"Yeah, I ought to know that," said Edward, "At least they're not perverted, but you're still pretty sick."

"Are you looking for another wrench, Ed?"

Ed put up his hands in defense. "No no, I'm not looking for another wrench! You've hit me enough times already."

Just then, Al walked back into the room, carrying a glass of milk. "Did I miss the joke?" Ed and Winry looked at each other and burst out laughing. "What? What's so funny?"

Ed managed to get enough control of himself to explain, "Yeah, you missed the joke, though I don't know if you actually 'missed' it. That joke was kind of sick."

"Oh, then I want to hear it," said Al, quickly swallowing his milk and sitting down on the edge of a chair, waiting eagerly. Al wanted to hear a sick joke? Wow, I guess that he had a lot of sides to his personality that he never showed.

After telling the joke, (which Al adored, by the way,) Winry turned back to the computer screen and typed,

"Make sure that you review and rate my joke, okay? Disregard, I repeat, disregard whatever Ed told you in his e-mails. He wasn't in a very good mood yesterday. Just rate however much you think I deserve, okay?"

"I WAS TOO IN A GOOD MOOD!"

"Sigh. Okay, we need to go before this gets any worse. Review and rate, and we'll make sure to update soon. We'll show the ratings as soon as we get through one round of jokes. Let the fight begin!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, everyone, this is Alphonse. This time, it's time for my joke."

"We need to put up a joke disclaimer this time," said Ed.

"Yeah, people are starting to think that we own the jokes," said Winry, "And that's certainly not true. We don't own these jokes; we just picked them up from somewhere. We don't necessarily know where we picked them up from, or who wrote them, but thank you, whoever did!"

"So," said Ed, sitting himself down in a chair, "What kind of jokes do you tell, Al? Even though you liked Winry's sick joke, I still can't imagine what kind of jokes you'd tell. I highly doubt that you tell sick jokes."

"No, I don't tell sick jokes, Brother," said Al.

"You DON'T?" said Winry, surprised, "You...You traitor!" All three of them laughed.

"Hey, I like sick jokes," said Al, defensively, "But it's not my style to tell them."

"So, what kind of jokes do you tell?" asked Winry. She and Ed both sat on the edges of their seats, waiting for Al to begin. This was going to be interesting. Al took a deep breath, and began his joke.

"A man was put in prison for crimes that he had committed. It took him awhile to accept it, but finally he did, and just started trying to understand this new environment he was in. He soon started noticing something very strange. Every so often, someone would call out a number, and the entire floor would laugh. Then, someone would call out a different number, and the entire floor would laugh again.

"Curious, he approached his cellmate about this. 'Oh,' said the man, 'That has a very simple explanation. You see, there is only one joke book in this entire building. So, we've attached numbers to all of the jokes. That way, we don't have to waste time telling the entire joke, and can just shout out the number, since everyone knows what we're talking about.'

"That made sense to the man, almost, that is. So, when he finally got the chance to read this same joke book, he was excitedly looking for a joke to tell, so that he could join in the 'fun' with the rest of the prisoners.

"Finally, the time came for him to test his newfound ability. He called out a number, and everyone laughed and laughed for a few moments. When the laughter died down, one laugh could still be heard coming from the cell at the far end of the corridor. The guy just laughed and laughed, and wouldn't stop laughing.

"He asked his cellmate who that was. 'Oh, that's Jerry,' said the man.

"'But why is he laughing so hard?'

"'Well,' said the man, 'He never heard that one before.'"

Ed and Winry both laughed. "I have to admit," said Ed, amidst chuckles "That joke wasn't that bad."

"Thanks, Brother," said Al.

"It was cute, Al," said Winry.

"What do you think the readers thought of it?" asked Al.

"We'll just have to wait and see," said Ed, who turned to face the readers. "Meanwhile, you could seriously help us out by sending us some of your favorite jokes. It would keep this fic going longer, at any rate. We're not an endless supply of jokes, after all. I'll be the next one to tell a joke. Give me a joke you'd like me to tell."

"And please, PLEASE don't post the jokes in the reviews!" interrupted Winry, "If people haven't heard the jokes yet, we don't want them to have to deal with the jokes being spoiled simply because they read the reviews. You'd be surprised at how many people read reviews. Send us a private message. We'll read it before Melissa knows about it, so it'll be safe."

"And remember to give my joke a rating! We need to know who won round one! We'll have the results up on the next chapter," said Al.

"So, Al, are you going to reply to everyone who reviews your chapter?" asked Winry.

"I don't know," Al shrugged, "It depends on how many responses I get. Brother replied to most of his reviewers, but you didn't reply to very many of them. If a particular review catches my eye, I'll reply."

Ed turned to face the readers again. "Did you hear that? If you want a reply from Al, make sure that your review catches his eye. I'll likely be doing that next time too, since it took me several hours to reply to all the reviews I got last time. Winry's right, I'm not much of a typist. Al's a little better than me, but he'll still likely want to pick and choose. If you want his reply, give him something to reply to."

With that, the three stood up, and turned to leave. They turned to face the readers again, waved, and said, "See you in chapter 4!"


End file.
